"Sweet," Hunter whispered, kissing her ear. Morgan reluctantly opened her eyes, then frowned as she realized Hunter was out of bed and already dressed.

"What are you doing?" she demanded sleepily. "Come back here." Hunter laughed and kissed a line of warmth beneath her ear.

"My last New Charter meeting, over in Wexford," he explained. "I'm taking the eight-oh-five ferry. I'll do my meeting, tell them to get a replacement, and be back by dinnertime at the latest. We can go get some of that fried stuff you love, all right?"

"All right," Morgan said, stretching luxuriously.

She saw a familiar roguish gleam in his eyes as he watched her stretch, then curl up again under the covers. He looked at his watch, and she laughed. "You don't have time," she told him.

"Love you," he said, grinning, opening the door.

"Love you, too," Morgan replied. "Forever."

Morgan felt as if she'd closed her eyes for only a moment when she was awoken by a loud banging. Frowning, she looked at her watch. Eight-twenty. So Hunter had been gone only half an hour. What was all that noise? She sat up. The lash of rain made her look over at the window. It was pouring outside, thundering and lightning. So odd after the clear dawn.

Downstairs, people were shouting and running, and doors were banging. What could possibly be the matter? A fire? There was no alarm. Had the roof sprung a leak? That wouldn't cause this much commotion.

In a minute Morgan had pulled on her jeans and sweater and shoved her feet into her boots. She put her head out the doorway and sniffed. No smell of fire. She cast her senses, sending her consciousness out around her. She picked up only choppy, confused feelings-panic, fear. She grabbed her coat and trotted downstairs.